Upgraded voices in my head
by paper75fire
Summary: Jeremy, for the most part, was okay with the effects of accidentally drinking Mountain Dew. Having an upgraded Squip that's no longer a complete douchebag (okay, he's still a little shitty, but nothing too unbearable)? Cool. Squip playing matchmaker for him and his multiple crushes? Awesome. Falling in love with said Squip? Not exactly ideal.
1. The Squip reenters

In hindsight, the Squip probably should've convinced Jeremy to abandon every bottle of Mountain Dew Red residing in his refrigerator ages ago.

If he'd suggested that downing too much fried his circuits and would retrigger the electrical shocks Jeremy grew way too familiar with or that the pill's reaction to the soft drink would sicken Jeremy or something along those lines, then maybe Jeremy wouldn't have chugged so much and, in turn, shut off the Squip's systems entirely. Jeremy, on the other hand, seemed quite glad the demonic tic tac failed at mentioning the soda's effect. If the Squip had, he would have never regained his mental stability, repaired his friendship with the Squip squad and his father, gotten the therapy he needed to heal the damage the Squip did to his mind, and finally go steady with Christine.

Now, if only he'd trashed his green Mountain Dew and, consequently, avoided almost dying (Well, okay, he was never _actually_ going to die and at the most he'd be in mild discomfort for a few days, but it still felt like dying to him!).

There lay irony in the day's relatively average beginning. Jeremy breezed though a few errands, finished streaming a let's play of level 14 of Apocalypse of the Damned, and got to work editing. Until four-thirty in the morning.

...Yeah, maybe working his ass off until way past midnight wasn't the wisest use of his time, but there _was_ a deadline to meet.

After suffering through three computer crashes and a major headache, Jeremy stumbled over to his kitchen, laptop in hand, and, in a sleep deprivation induced haze, snagged the bottle of green Mountain Dew Michael left out of the fridge, sipping a minute portion while trudging back to his room. Or, at least, he began to trudge back. Unfortunately for him, a sharp pain coursed through his veins before he could even take his second step, forcing the laptop to slip out of his hands spill soda onto the floor as he desperately gripped the sides of his head.

" _Target objective unknown._ " A voice averred, despite seemingly having no visible source Jeremy could detect as he frantically scanned his surroundings.

" _Recalibration in progress. Please excuse some mild discomfort._ "

Jeremy collapsed onto the floor as a million questions raced through his mind. The fuck is going on? Why is the Squip's voice the loudest in his head again? Where is he?

" _Calibration completed. Access procedure initiated._ "

As suddenly as it attacked him, the searing pain ceased as Jeremy gradually sat up, attempting (and failing) to gather his bearings.

"...What the hell?"

" _Discomfort level may increase._ "

Violently shrieking, he yanked his head back down and curled up into the fetal position, gripping tight and gritting his teeth as tears and dizziness blurred his vision.

" _Accessing neural memory. Accessing muscle memory. Access procedure complete. Jeremy Heere. Welcome to your super quantum unit intel processor._ "

The young adult gaped at the supercomputer as it faded into reality, smirking and holding out its hand.

"Your Squip."


	2. Voices out of my head

Taking the computer's hand for support as he awkwardly rose to his feet, the gamer smushed the puzzled Squip's face in between his hands and examined its every angle, shaking a bit but standing his ground.

"...You...look like...my old Squip." He muttered, eyes fluttering shut before he slowly dropped to the floor.

"Well, of course I do, this is my default mode after a-Jeremy!"

After said human face planted into the floor's cold surface, the Squip immediately flipped him over and laid him down on his back, shakily murmuring obscenities underneath his breath. Pressing a hand against his host's forehead, the Squip scanned and analyzed his vital signs. He detected a steady pulse rate and Jeremy's breathing pattern seemed acceptable so there seemed to be no reason for immediate panic or contacting a hospital, but his additional readings reported a prominent lack of water, food, and sleep.

After scouring the refrigerator for water and food, the countertops for paper towels, and the cabinets for a first aid kit and rags he could dampen, he bent down next to Jeremy and dumped the contents in his arms onto the floor, placing a hand on the human's shoulder and bracing himself. As adverse as he was to the idea of electrocuting his new host on his first day on the job, an unconscious Jeremy couldn't drink water. That being said, after witnessing the fear swimming in Jeremy's wide eyes as he shot up and let out a blood curdling scream, he decided to label his adversity and the guilt hitting him in waves warranted, especially once the now breathing heavily young adult scrambled back into a corner and shielded himself with his arms out of terror induced adrenaline. Maybe he should've lightened the poor guy's intense voltage.

The Squip stepped forward slightly, attempting to gauge how close he could get without potentially setting him off. "Jeremy, you must understand, I have no intentions of harming you, I simpl-"

"You were just trying to help me back in high school and look what happened then, you oversized microwave!" He cried, eyes flickering around the room.

"Jeremiah, please, I don't know what you're referring to and if you don't calm down, you body has an incredibly high chance of going into shock. And quit looking for escape routes, i'm in your mind!"

"Why the fuck would I listen to you after all the bullshit you put me through!?"

"Because I am trying to assist you, you bratty imbecile."

Jeremy froze. He was right. The supercomputer _had_ kept him awake and the junk lying on the floor couldn't have been for anything other his potential injuries. As much as he loathed the guy, Jeremy was going to have to accept the Squip's help until he regained his physical stability, granting him the strength to nab some more Mountain Dew Red from Michael's house.

"...a-alright, go ahead."

Signing in relief, the Squip's shoulders dropped as his face softened and he twisted the water bottle's cap off, holding the open end a half a foot away from Jeremy's lips. "Heere, drink this. You're severely dehydrated. Not too quickly, though. You'll overwhelm your body's systems." Shifting his attention to the first aid kit, he flipped open the lid and lifted a roll of bandages and disinfectant out of its casing before glancing back at Jeremy. "Can you tell me where it hurts the most?" His voice seemed softer, as if trying to avoid another freakout from his host. It was working pretty well thus far.

Up until that point.

"... _Everywhere_." He cried, voice cracking.

The injured man shut his eyes tight as violent sobs began escaping from his throat. The splitting headache, lack of food, water, and sleep, busted lip, heavy amounts of electricity flowing through his body, and deep cuts on his arm, leg, and forehead had all caught up with him, resulting in mind-numbing pain coursing through his body. Trembling, he buried his hands in his face as the Squip pulled him into a firm hug he sank deeply into, rubbing little circles on his back and rocking him slightly as he whispered generic soothing words of comfort under his breath. Jesus, were humans always this overemotional? He certainly hoped not. There was no way in hell he could do this every night.

Once his sobs gradually morphed into sniffles and quiet hiccups, the now calm Jeremy slowly raised his head to lock eyes with the Squip who swiftly wiped the tear streaks off from underneath his eyes, delicately laying him against the wall. "If your heart rate returning to normal and your trembling ceasing is any indication, it seems safe to assume you're emotionally stable, correct?"

Rubbing his eyes, the corners of his mouth perked up slightly as he spoke. "Yeah...yeah, I-I'm good now." He assured, voice horse and weary.

The Squip sighed in relief and smiled. "Thank god, I can barely handle my _own_ stronger human emotions. dealing with your's would have ended in catastrophe!"

Stealing a light giggle from the other, the comment distracted him from the news about "new" emotions while the supercomputer tugged Jeremy's arm in one hand and aimed the disinfectant at the top of his hand's scrape. "Brace yourself, this might sting a bit. And finish off that water bottle too. We don't need you passing out again, now do we?" Jeremy smirked at that. "Once you're done, eat a few of these." He shoved a box of saltines into his hands. "They should hold you over until morning. Lift your head up, I need to address your lips." Lightly, he tapped their general area with a paper towel, instructing Jeremy to hold it up to his mouth until the bleeding ceased. "As a side note, I'd like to apologize for lashing out earlier. My harsh outburst was unconstructive and generally uncalled for, especially when you were suffering from such strong emotional distress, and untruthful, since, according to my data, you possess…" He paused. "...slightly below average intelligence regarding book smarts when at full performance levels."

"Gee, thanks, I feel so much better." He deadpanned.

"Now, I'd like an explanation as to why you haven't eaten in three days, drunk any liquids besides half an ounce of green Mountain Dew in four days, and haven't slept in six days." He affirmed, ignoring his host's comment and beginning to bandage his hand all while donning a concerned expression.

"God, I don't know, I just, well...I mean," Jeremy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I just got so busy with work I...I-I didn't really sweat it when I forgot all that stuff and just sorta...kept on trucking I guess?" He suggested, internally cringing at how unsure he sounded.

"I see." The computer hummed. "So, when work _really_ needs to get done, are you not concerned about forgetting to breathe too?" He scolded, earning an eye roll from Jeremy once he began dabbing at the open wound on his forehead.

"Oh, cut me some slack." The gamer lamented. "I have a deadline to meet tomorrow! Haven't you ever pulled an allnighter where all you did was wrap up shit for work?"

The electronic paused. "Well, since I don't require food or water unless I'm in my human form, which I rarely use, and I have spent approximately 27 nights in total without entering recharge mode, which is essentially the same thing, I suppose I have."

"See? Just 'cause I di-"

" _However_ ," The Squip chided, "You should never emulate this behavior of mine since, even though the majority of my choices are logically sound decisions that yield highly positive outcomes due to my detailed and complex database, those nights were utter failures caused by my total systems shut down after running out of power."

"That doesn't sound so ba-"

"My creator cried himself to sleep that night after realizing he couldn't print his homework without my help."

"...Oh."

"And besides, you aren't a computer, Jeremiah." Squip continued, snatching up the bandages and carefully wrapping them around his host's head. "You just can't pick and choose when you nourish yourself or sleep. You are human and humans have biological clocks they must abide by and I _will_ be monitoring you so don't even think about pulling a stunt like this aga-"

"Alright, alright, fine, Mom." That won a tiny smile from the computer. "I won't let it happen again. I mean, it's not like I even do it that much. I can take care of myself, you know! I'm not a baby." He muttered, folding his arms.

"Really? You seem to carry the same maturity levels as one."

Disregarding Squip's snide remark, Jeremy rolled his eyes before sinking back down, sighing and throwing up his hands as a sign of defeat. "I guess you are kinda right though."

"I always am."

He groaned before sporting a confused expression. "Wait...did you say your creator? Like, the guy that made you?"

Squip shot his host a look of tamed exasperation. "No, the inventor of the modern day laptop."

"..."

"I'm joking."

"Oh," The host stuttered, caught off guard. "Uh, w-well, I'm Jeremy!"

...

"Are you always this awkward?"

Jeremy hurried to defend himself. "W-well, i'm n-not as much as I used t-wait...why are you asking?"

"In order to improve your life," He began, moving down to the cut on Jeremy's leg, "I need to get a strong grip on your personality. And I am genuinely curious since you appear to be mildly interesting, technically speaking."

"Oh, uh, t-thanks? But you already know me."

"No, I don't."

"Uh, yeah, y-you kinda do? You spent a ton of junior high trying to," he raised his hands to make air quotes. "'Improve my life'? Almost brainwashed all of my friends? Ring any bells?"

The supercomputer's shoulders slumped as he stop what he was doing. "You don't understand what's going on here, do you?"

"Probably not no." He admitted, shaking his head.

"Something tells me not knowing the obvious is something you're very familiar with."

"Hey!"

"I'll give you a full run down of the details in the morning, since we really should be getting you to bed soon, but, in short, I am a version 4.7 Squip, unlike your old 2.0 model. I am packed to the brim with updates, one of which has locked my memories of my previous usage, rendering them unassailable. Others include a physical human form, complex human emotions, the ability to touch physical objects around me, morality, fewer bugs and glitc-"

"Whoa, w-wait, what was that last one?"

"Morality."

"Y-yeah, that. What does that mean?"

"Morality is defined as principles concerning the distinction between right an-"

"I know what the _word_ means! I just wanna know what you having it means. I'm not an idiot."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Oh, fuck you!"

Feigning shock, the supercomputer faked an over dramatic gasp. "Wow. Such an eloquent insult. Truly, you are a modern Shakespeare, Jeremiah." He snarked, setting down the bandages from patching Jeremy's leg up. "As for your question, I now have a moral compass, albeit a tad skewed, that I tend to abide by, since my human emotions now overwhelm me with guilt whenever I do something too heinous. My creator's convinced it'll make eroding the mental state of my host much easier to avoid, but I find it only weakens my performance."

"So...you have feelings and stuff? And you aren't a total prick anymore?"

"That's a gross oversimplification, but yes."

"Oh. Huh." Jeremy fell silent to for a moment, donning an expression that even a Squip couldn't read. "A nice Squip. That..." The corners of his mouth curled up while the two locked eyes, sparking an identical reaction in his Squip. "That actually sounds pretty chill."

"I'm glad you think so, Jeremy. Now, you should get some rest. Is there any else you need beforehand?"

"Heh, unless you wanna kiss my booboos better like mama used to, I think I'm good." He snickered, shifting to lift himself back up.

"...Jeremy, how old are you?"

"Uh, 19, why?"

"Bec-...no reason." He answered, bending down to peck the bandages on his thigh, dusting Jeremy's cheeks pink and sending shivers down his spine with cold, yet somewhat soft, lips. The hell? He was just messing around. He didn't actually exp- oh. He grasped his hand and tenderly kissed its top. Okay then. As surreal as the sensation was, the sight reminded him of those corny fairy tales his father used to read to him where the knight in shining armor always addressed the princess by kissing her hand. It usually came off as silly and childish to him once he got older, but this felt pretty formal and sincere and somehow sorta...romantic? God, that sounded weir- oh, now those lips were pressing up against his forehead, okay, this was happening. As strange as it appeared, the Squip moved gently and slowly, so it felt oddly intimate and sweet, a wave of calm and security washing over him. Then, the Squip, gingerly cupping his cheeks in his hands, leaned in and-

"WHoa, okay, that's enough for today! I should...probably get some sleep, like you said." He blurted after slapping his hand over the Squip's mouth and shoving him back, cheeks burning. Scowling, said Squip ripped the hand down and glared.

"Jesus, Jeremy, you could have just said something." He lamented, ignoring how he almost kissed Jeremy on the lips like it was nothing even though it was very much Not Nothing™ and holding out his hand. "Now, come on, slugger, let's get you to bed."

He yawned, scrubbing at his eyes. "Yeah, that sounds g- ah, shit!" He groaned, leaning on the Squip's, who was now holding him up, arm for support.

"Yeah, okay, this," He gestured with his index finger to Jeremy's weak attempt at taking another step with his cut leg. "is not going to work. Stay still so I assist you."

"Wha-whoa, okay, we're doing this now, a-alrighty then." He remarked, mostly to his stunned self, as the Squip carried him upstairs, bridal style.

"You know I can walk, right?"

"Really?" He scoffed. "The way you fell into my arms after only taking one step led me to believe otherwise."

"Don't be a smartass. And don't phase it like that either!" He snapped, pink dusting his cheeks.

"I'm only kidding, Jeremiah. I'm well aware you can walk. And, so you don't freak out and don't resist, you should know that your leg should heal by morning, according to my calculations."

Oh, thank god. That meant his Squip wouldn't attempt to carry him again anytime soon. Speaking of which, he should probably explain to the Squip how he couldn't just _do_ that to a guy he met that day. But that could wait until tomorrow. For now, he could just bury his red face into the Squip's shoulder and revel in the artificial heat the Squip intentionally generated before he was dumped onto his bed and wrapped himself in a blanket, concluding that maybe a good Squip didn't sound too bad. After all, he could always use someone helping him out.


	3. Time to start the evening

Stirred by the barely audible pings and clicks his computer emitted and soft scraping from behind the wall, Jeremy, forced to groggily rub his eyes and prop himself up with his arms, slowly peeled his eyes open, only to be met with...a dimly lit room? Shit, did he oversleep? Drowsily trudging over to peer outside the windowpane to investigate, Jeremy marveled at the beginning of a dreamy sunset above him, acting as the backdrop to a stunning v-

"Jeremy, you're looking at the outside of a 3.7 star rated apartment window. In New Jersey. I doubt the view is as aesthetically pleasing as you make it out to be." Pulling his hand off the computer screen, Squip turned to face his host. "Now get dressed so you can address your friend downstairs or you could just overreact and throw things at me, that works too." He deadpanned, not bothering to pick up the pillow that phased through him during Jeremy's panic. Instead, he opted to calm the trembling gamer huddled in the corner by kneeling down and resting a hand on his shoulder, only pulling back when he flinched at the contact. "Jeremy."

No response.

"Jeremy, look at me." He whispered, only continuing once the other man's eyes locked with his. "There's no logical reason for panic, Jeremiah. Do you recall what I told you last night? About my reprogrammed sense of morality?" Dazed, the man nodded warily, earning a soft smile from the other. "Good. It means that you're safe, Jeremiah. No one is going to harm you, I promise." He explained, triggering Jeremy sharply exhaling and slumping back down in relief.

"Sorry about, uh, that." He muttered, wiping away tears and pointing at the pillow after he caught his breath and steadied himself. "I'm not usually this much of a crybaby."

Simply smirking in response, Squip held out his hand to help his host up. "It was a reasonable fight-or-flight response to a supposed imminent threat, Jeremy. No need for an apology. Though it _was_ quite an extreme reaction for just seeing me." He commented, scrolling through his settings. "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable with a different appearance? You can also set me for Sean Connery, Jack Nicholson, S-"

"Yeah, yeah, 'Sexy anime female', I know, I know." The gamer interjected. "It's fine, Squip, promise. I'll get over it soon, I swear." And besides, this Squip was too gorgeous already. The last setting would be _way_ too much to handle.

"...I appreciate the compliment, Jeremy." The now-flustered, though doing his best to hide it, Squip replied. "You're quite attractive as well."

Wait a minute…

"...You can still hear my thoughts, can't you?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because it's annoying as fuck." He groaned as the Squip browsed settings once again. "You wouldn't happen to have an off setting for that, would you?"

"Already taken care of."

Oh, thank god. Now he wouldn't have to forcefully clear his mind whenever his Squip said shit like 'Take me inside you ~forever~'. "Well, since you prefer my current physical state, reviewing the memories stored in my previous version's files should assist me in remedying the effect it has on y-"

"No!"

…

"...I...beg your pardon?" Furrowing his eyebrows and eyeing the death grip his host held on his wrist, Squip barely noticing the bitten-down nails pressing into his skin and instead focused on decoding his host's facial expression, despite the teen's insistence on laser focusing on the carpet underneath him.

"...Squip...I don't...I don't think...you can't just...I-It's not lik..." He balled his fists and grit his teeth, face going red as he sputtered out an answer. Dammit! Why was he so nervous all of a sud-

"Jeremy."

Tearing his eyes away from the floor, he hesitantly met the Squip's right before the technological wonder begin reassuring him that "You're fine, honestly. I don't bite, you know." before sporting a lighthearted grin. "Unless, of course, you want me too."

Playfully shoving the Squip with what little strength he had, Jeremy collapsed into a fit of laughter, which, despite his infinite library of stock audios, the Squip silently labeled his favorite sound, recording it for future listening and reference. "God, that was awful!"

"Almost as awful as you?"

"Oh, fuck off." Jeremy rolled his eyes and wiped off the tears running down his grinning face before taking a moment and a deep breath to compose himself, finally ready to talk.

"...Okay, listen, man. My old Squip made me willing to do some pretty fucked up shit for something not even that worth it. It's way more complex and detailed than I'm making it out to be, but, basically, I was a douchebag to pretty much everyone I care about. I can give you a quick rundown of what happened, but actually seeing how much of an asshole I am is way too much."

The Squip only rolled his eyes. "Jeremy, I can assure you th-"

"No, I mean it, Squip. You _can't_ open up those memories. Just..." He loosened his grip and gave the computer a weary and tired smile. "Just promise me you won't look?"

"Jeremy, in order for me to perform at my optima-"

"Squip. _Please_."

Said Squip sighed. Why was he assigned such a difficult host? Reanalyzing his host sounded like lengthy and unnecessary work, only overcomplicating his objective and why the fuck didn't his creator program immunity from sad puppy-dog eyes in him? It was like the man had the kicked puppy look down to a science (he didn't, but Brooke did and had no qualms teaching him, despite Chloe's warning of "It's too powerful for an adorkable geek like him.").

"...Fine." He snapped, prompting said host to drop his shoulders and let go of his Squip's wrist.

"Thanks" Jeremy turned to address the cat scratching below his window, attempting to actually start the evening.


	4. Target accessible

"Just don't expect perfect results when I have barely anything to work with." He admonished while meeting Jeremy at the windowsill, reaching for the cat's fur coat before his host, baring a look of shook, smacked his hand away.

"Don't electrocute the cat, you heathen!"

Squip only tilted his head slightly, which Jeremy would have found charming, if not for the response the motion followed. "Why not? It reeks of french perfume, friskies, and..." He paused. "...candle wax?"

"Because it's, like, three steps away from kicking puppies. And, more importantly, Brooke would slaughter me if her cat came back with singed fur."

"What makes you think I'm above such an act? And put that bottle down, studies show giving a cat water results in it coming back the next day roughly 73% of the time."

"Oh, c'mon, who wouldn't want this little cutie around?" Playfully grinning, the boy ran a hand over its blue fur, accidentally grazing the lopsided party hat perched upon it's head and ignoring the Squip's less than impressed expression born out of viewing his host as far more adorable anyway (statistically speaking, of course). At least, compared to all the living creatures he'd seen so far (certainly more than the slob powering through Jeremy's various PC games and downing Mountain Dew downstairs). "Didn't you say you were nicer now, anyway?"

"I _said_ ," The Squip corrected, prompting an eye roll from Jeremy as he poured water into a bowl outside. "I was granted a base sense of morality. _You_ assumed I was kind. I am many things, Jeremiah, but I am certainly no angel."

Clearly. "That's alright. I'm kinda trash too, so it's not like I can complain."

"I think that's the first intelligent comment you've made since you woke up this morning."

Jeremy ran a hand over his face while grabbing the outfit his Squip laid out for him last night and made his way to the door. "You know, degrading someone after they tell a lighthearted, self-deprecating joke isn't exactly the best way to get on someone's good side. You might wanna tone down the shit-talking when you meet my friends."

The computer simply nodded. "You make a valid point, Jeremy. It's a good thing I won't be talking to them."

Outstretched hand hovering over the handle, Jeremy halted before swerving around to shoot the man a puzzled look. "Uh, yes you are. You're sharing a brain with me. You're gonna end up around people at some point and the cat saw you so I know they'll see you too."

"If I let them, which I won't since remaining unknown could turn out to be beneficial to completing my objective."

"But you _did_ complete your objective."

"And I am awaiting a new one, just like your friend is waiting for you to join him downstairs."

"Oh, shit, right! I'll be back in a few minutes." The gamer cried before throwing the door open and disappearing behind it, prompting his Squip to shift his attention to the computer to finish editing. He couldn't have a repeat of last night.

"You're not getting a new one, you know. An objective, I mean. I don't really need help with anything right now." The boy explained after coming out of the bathroom fully washed and dressed before tugging the Intel processor by the arm and guiding him through the hallway. "C'mon, let's go see who's downstairs."

"You needed my help last night." He countered. "And considering your attraction to Ms. Brooklyn," Jeremy froze in his tracks, only turning redder as his Squip continued. "Along with my earlier version's relegation to the role of matchmaker, the goal of pairing you two together is already a probable option, unless you label some other task as a higher priority."

"Ha...how did...I-I thought I told you not to watch those memories!"

"I didn't." He reassured, earning a sigh of relief from the other. "The romantic tone and nature of the dream you had about her last night and the fact that, in only 43 minutes and 51.04 seconds, you've mentioned her by name twice clued me in."

"Fine, you caught me." He admitted, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall for support. "That doesn't mean you're getting me and Brooke together. She dumped me junior year. I honestly doubt she wants me back after..." He trailed off.

"You underestimate me, Jeremy. Even without my own human emotions, I possess a strong enough understanding of human interactions and relationships to set you up with anyone you have your eye on." Resisting the urge to point out that no, he didn't, Jeremy mulled the concept over in his head. The Squip _could_ feel now, and wasn't too much of a tool. At least, not to him. Could he really trust the same technology that almost brainwashed his entire school with his love life though?

The answer was yes, apparently, since he instructed his Squip to set Brooke, as well as his other crushes, returning his feeling as the computer's goal while they strolled downstairs to greet their guest.


	5. Michael makes an entrance

Dropping down to the final step, Jeremy swiveled around to awkwardly lean against the soda stained arm of a battered sofa (the Squip would have to convince him to dispose of that later), all while never taking his eyes off the rather uncomfortable advanced ai. He stared the boy down for a few moments in a (successful, if his host's increased fidgeting was any indication) attempt at intimidation before shuddering, a wave of cold electricity running up his spine, and snapped back in hopes of distracting from his darkening cheeks, air sudden too hot and room too cramped (especially with the gremlin huddled in one of the couch's corner and gripping the controller so hard his nails were digging into its plastic sides, music blaring from his oversized headphones so loud it was audible even from where they stood as glossed over eyes fixated themselves on crude low poly pixel art).

" _What_?" He sneered, practically baring his fangs and catching the human off guard before he mentally scrambled for a reply that didn't reveal how shamelessly he'd been checking the computer out.

"I, uh, I was just wondering why, um, why you're human form still look kinda like Keanu Re-oof!" Before Jeremy could finish, his guest ripped off his headphones, threw them on the woolen carpet, and tackled him in a warm hug, flinging them both into the sofa cushion and wiping the hostile interaction clean from the host's mind. The Squip, eyeing the home intruder visitor cautiously, silently slipped behind the stairs as Jeremy reciprocated the hug, burying his face in his friend's soft shoulder for a soft moment before beaming a warm smile at him. "Michael! Holy shit, it's so good to see you, man. How come you're home early?"

"Our flight back got cancelled so we took an early one home. The trip was still hella gnarly though. God, you woulda loved it, man! We're taking you with next time, I promi...whoooooa, wait..." Eerie silence piercing through enthusiasm to reveal concern as he finally took in Jeremy's new apprentice in full. The gamer gently cupped his reddening face with one hand, gingerly thumbing over the fresh scar, along with a few stray acne bumps, on his cheek and brushing the soft curls dangling in front of his bandages out of the way. "Dude, what...happened?" Startled by the sudden intimacy, he bashfully turned to the side to avoid his friend's intense stare and explained what led to the mess that was last night, taking particular care to leave out the face planting like a moron bit and being practically coddled by his dotting Squip before standing back up and bracing himself for Michael's reaction.

"...Well,...yeah, but...you're good _now_ , right?" He pried, poking and prodding a now heavily flustered Jeremy's face in search of any softly injuries he might've missed. "'Cause I don't think I could ever forgive myself if something serious happened just 'cause I wasn't here to, like, nag you about taking care of yourself n' shit."

Jeremy eyes widen before they shifted to the floor, his hands beginning to fidget again (Squip would have to deal with that later). "Aw, c'mon, Micky, y-you know you don't have to worry about me." The jet lag from his wonky trip hours ensured that Michael did not have the time, nor the energy, to explain why that sentence took the prize for biggest understatement of the decade. "I'm totally fine! I mean, my head is givin' me hell and I'm fucking starving, but, like, besides that Squip says I'll be fine, so, uh, yeah." He spat out, earning an overly drawn out sigh of relief from his player 1 who slumped back into his seat.

"Oh, thank god!" Shoulders dropping, Michael leaned back against his friend and let out a sigh. "Man, you are so fucking lucky you're not hurt for real, Jer. You pull a stunt like that again and I won't hesitate, bi-wait did you say squip?" The other nodded casually before Michael shot him a curious look.

"Oh, right! Okay,.." He shot up out of his seat and swiftly grabbed Michael's sleeve, ripping him up from the couch to revealing a stone faced, cleanly dressed man that the player 1 could only describe as a stylish and almost threatening version of "chill" personified practically staring into his soul, while Jeremy hooked himself onto the man's arm, vibrating with an almost childlike excitement. It vaguely reminded him of the joy that the player 2 radiated after finally asking Christine out or finding out about how to silence Squips excessive internal nagging with a mountain dew red binge (the irony between that last example and the situation at hand did not escape Michael)"So! This is my-"

"Squip." He interjected, extending an arm in search of a handshake while silently bracing himself to touch a most likely greasy and calloused hand. "Shorthand for super quantum unit Intel processor. You must be Michael. Truly a..." Closing his eyes and grimacing, he forced out his best, almost like the words stung. "...pleasure...to meet you, sir. Jeremy has told me many oh, for god sakes, why do you humans insist on throwing things at me today!?" The hologram groaned, bending over to pick up the thrown Xbox controller that had phased through him and place it back on top of its console while Jeremy ran to Michael's side.

Failing to apprehend his friend due to his less than stellar strength (see: noodle arms), he opted for a more reason-based persuasion, muting the voice inside his head nagging on about how the emotion driven best friend would probably just dismiss anything he said when dealing with something this serious.

"Dude, what the hell is your problem!?"

Micheal gave his friend a baffled look before pointing at the hologram. "That! _That_ thing is the source of like...85% of all my problems."

"I assume the other 15% stem from your raging idiocy, correct?"

Before Michael could bite back with a "Fuck off, you satanic tic tac!" or something equally unclever, Jeremy glared at his Squip before overprotective wrapping his arms around Michael, who's eyes widened at the sudden contact, and pulling him close, taking a half step back from the program. "Hey, cool it, dude! That's, like, my favorite person you're talking about."

The Squip cringed at the young adult's poor taste. " _That's_ your favorite person?" Clearly he didn't have much competition for the title.

...not that he wanted it, of course.

"Oh, yeah, uh, sorry about that. I swear, he's usually not..." Jeremy studied the almost bloodthirsty look in the eyes of his kicking and screaming friend as he clawed frantically at the offending Intel processor. "...like this."

"I should hope not. Spending too much time around someone so..." The computer program circled around the calmer yet still scouring teen, combing over every inch of him with his electronic scanners. "...juvenile would hinder my objective."

"Suck a dick, asshole!"

The Squip only blinked. "I hope you know you're only proving my point."

"I hope you know you're a defective piece of shit."

A harsh, palpable silence fell over the room as Michael slumped into his player two's arms in gradual exhaustion and said player loosened his grip subtly and unwittingly leaned toward his Squip, his wide eyes frantically picking apart each pixel. Simulated breath hitching, the Squip froze for so long Jeremy had time to toy with the idea that he might be glitching. The last time Jeremy saw him project glossy, shifting eyes, shaky hands, and a loss for words (God knows that thing never shut up) was during the glimpse he caught moments before passing out from the shock of The Play™. Back then it'd only been there as a last-ditch attempt to draw sympathy out of Jer in vain hopes of reactivation, but there was no reason for it now, considering the lack of real, high-stakes threat (Unless you counted Michael and, quite frankly, he knew the Squip was smart enough not to). The first time was a dull shock to Jeremy's system.

The second only stirred up a vague sense of concern he was sure the Intel processor saw.

The Squip, of course, couldn't have that.


End file.
